One time, it happened.
I had stopped to give a quick hug to my second cousin who had driven all the way from Shreveport, and when I turned again, he was headed out the door. It had only taken me a few seconds to hug her, but Ryan was now walking away.
"I have to go catch somebody," I explained to my cousin, even as I was turning to walk away.
She smiled and nodded, yelling something about liking the set as I walked away.
"Thank you!" I yelled. "I'll be back in a minute!" I yelled that last part not only to my cousin, but as a little bit of a warning to everyone else that I didn't want to be stopped as I was leaving the room.
Claire looked at me with a remorseful shrug as I approached her. "I couldn’t get him to hang out," she said. "I think he was in a hurry. He said he only caught the last two songs—" she was continuing to talk, but I didn't even stop to listen. I patted her on the shoulder as I walked right past her. "Thanks for trying," I said. "Thanks for stalling him."
I smiled and gave high-fives to a few people between Claire and the door, but it was obvious that I was walking with purpose, and no one tried to stop me. I could see Ryan through the coffee shop windows, so I knew which direction he was heading.
He was only about ten feet from the door when I finally made it outside. There were several small groups of people standing near the door, but no one paid attention to me or the fact that I was basically chasing Ryan. Okay, so they did look at me, but no one stopped me or said anything, so I just smiled and shimmied right past them.
"Ryan," I said when I was close enough to him that I wouldn’t have to yell to get his attention. He was a few feet from me when I yelled, and he slowed down, making me do the same. He didn't turn right away, and I wondered if he was working up the nerve to look at me. I was nearing him when he shifted to face me. He looked at me with a cautious smile, but glanced down almost immediately, staring at the sidewalk, or the street, or the people behind us—anywhere but at me.
"Hey," I said. I put my hand on his forearm and leaned forward to try to get him to make eye contact with me.
He looked nice. He had on a light colored button-down shirt with a fitted brown sports coat and dark jeans. He looked every bit the gorgeous professor—the hit-book-writing, mini-series-writing gorgeous professor he was.
He smiled at me, but it was extremely guarded. There was an invisible wall between us; I could see it by the look in his eyes.
"You sounded great," he said. He shook his head as he smiled, making eye contact with me for the briefest of seconds. "I can't believe how you're playing that guitar now…" He hesitated. "There's nothing like your voice, Wynn," he added sincerely. "It's a gift." He straightened and took a deep breath in, bowing his chest out. It was more of a nervous gesture on his part, but all it did was emphasize how much bigger he was than I remembered. For some reason, that made me feel all warm and fuzzy. I wanted to reach out and hug him—just wrap my arms around him and hold on for dear life. But we weren't there yet. In fact, he looked a bit like he didn't want to talk to me at all.
"I don't want to keep you from your family," he said, gesturing to the coffee shop with a little bow as he started to turn.
"Ryan," I said. "Please."
"Please what, Wynn?" he asked.
"Please just stop for a second," I said, holding my hands out.
He breathed in again, shaking his head and leveling me with a little smirk that said he knew he was getting himself into trouble.
I furrowed my eyebrows at him. "You're walking off like you didn't even hear that song," I said in a playfully disappointed way.
He studied my face, and I searched the depths of his blue-grey eyes. "I assumed that song was for someone else," he said. "That's what you said the last time I saw you."
"What did I say?" I asked, feeling embarrassed for being called out.
"You know what you said," he said.
"I said it for you," I said.
He let out a sarcastic scoff.
"I did," I said. "I knew she was better for you, so I said what I needed to say to make you stay with her. I didn't want to do it. It killed me to do it." I paused and motioned to the coffee shop. "Why do you think half of my songs are about falling apart?"
"I don't understand what you're saying right now, Wynn."
"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm trying to explain." I looked around. "Can you just stick around and talk to me for a minute?"
He stretched out his palms, indicating that that's what we were doing.
"Are you with that girl?" I asked.
I definitely could have used a little more finesse with my timing and delivery, but it was killing me to know.
"No, Wynn, I’m not with that girl. I haven't seen her since the last time I saw you."
I couldn't stop a smile from crossing my face when he said it, which made him sigh and shake his head at me. "I love you, Wynn, but I'm not trying to play games."
"I'm not trying to play games, either, Ryan."
"Oh you're not?" he asked. "You want to just come out here and kiss me, and then we can go inside so you can tell me how in love you are with some other guy?"
I buried my face in my hands. "I already told you why I did that," I said.
"And now it's different?" he asked.
I shrugged. "Yes. I think so. I don't know. I wasn't really planning on running after you like this. I didn't even know you were coming tonight until right before the show, and even then, she said you probably wouldn't make it." I sighed and threw my hands in the air. "I don't really have a plan past not letting you walk away right now." I smiled and gestured to him. "And I did that."
He held his hands out. "You did that," he agreed. "Now what?"
"I don't know," I said, shrugging and shaking my head shyly. "Come back inside with me. Let me not totally blow it this time."
I paused and shook my head, trying to hold back the tears that stung my eyes. Ryan reached out and put his hand on my face. He used a gentle touch—his fingertips barely brushing my cheek. "I'm hopeless," he said, looking into my eyes. I could see his expression soften ever so slightly. He shook his head. "I don't know how you do it," he said studying my face.
I knew he was referring to the affect I had on him, and relief flooded my body that he still felt something for me. I took that as an open door, and I reached forward to grasp his lapel. I gave it a little tug, but quickly let go, smiling again. "Come walk me inside," I said. "I need to talk to about fifty people, and I want you to stand by me."
He leveled me with a stare.
"I do," I said. "Please come in with me."
He shook his head, and sighed in a here goes nothin' sort of way.
I smiled as I fell into stride beside him. I was so happy he was staying that I reached up onto my toes and placed a kiss on his cheek as we walked. He looked down at me. I knew I was missing something by not having Ryan in my life, but it sank in on a new level as I walked back into that place on his arm. He was the one.
"Thank you for coming, and thank you for staying," I said to him as we stepped back inside.
He didn't have time to respond because my parents and cousins had made it to the door and were waiting for me to come back inside so they could say goodbye.
It was interesting to watch how they all reacted differently to the sight of Ryan standing next to me. My dad, being the type of man he was, stepped forward to shake Ryan's hand. I watched as they greeted each other with eye contact the way men do. Ryan greeted everyone else, and we spoke to them for a few minutes before they said they needed to get on the road. Ryan had met some of them and not others, but he fit right in. They asked him a few questions about his book and his new job, and he answered them intelligently. I was so proud of him that I couldn’t keep myself from holding onto him. He stood there, talking to my family, and I held onto his arm, feeling like the luckiest girl in the world.
Sure there were still some kinks to work out, but I was pretending as I held onto him that all was right w
ith the world and we'd be together forever. My family left, and Ryan and I made the rounds, talking to Claire and her group (and many others including my second cousins from Shreveport again). It was a coffee shop, so it wasn't like people were planning on staying all night. Most of the people who had come for my set had cleared out within an hour after I was done. I stuck around and talked to the ones who stayed, feeling stunned and once again, humbled by their kind words about my performance.
Ryan stayed by my side the whole time, remaining quiet at the right times, and speaking up when he needed to. I knew what I was doing with my body language. I wasn't hanging all over him or anything, but I was in constant physical contact with him, even if it was just tucking my hand under his arm as I stood next to him.
Claire and her roommate, Lilly, were the last ones we talked to before deciding to leave. As they were walking out, I told Claire to leave the door open for me and that I would spend the night on her couch. I hadn't discussed any plans with Ryan, but I assumed I'd end up staying at Claire's regardless.
I stooped to pick up my guitar as soon as Claire and Lilly left, and Ryan took it from me, strapping it over his back so I didn't have to carry it.
"What are we doing?" he asked as we stood there looking at each other. There was a boyish innocence to his face that made me want to grab him and plant kisses all over his cheeks and mouth—and mostly his mouth. I stared at it.
"Wynn," he said since I hadn't answered his question.
"What?"
"What are we doing?"
"We're trying to give it a go or whatever," I said. I shrugged shyly. "I mean, if you can forgive me or whatever, I'd like to try to—"
"I mean right now," he said, with an easy smile as he pinched me playfully. "I meant what are we doing right now when we leave this coffee shop."
"Oh, right now?" I asked, looking around. "I don't really know. I rode here with Claire, so I'm at your mercy as far as a ride is concerned. Is that okay?"
"It's pretty much my ideal scenario," he said without cracking a smile.
"I read your book," I said, staring up at him and feeling breathless.
He pulled back to focus on me as he smiled. "You did?"
I nodded. "I think I'm Emma, and you're Jack."
"Nahhh," he said shaking his head with a smirk even though he knew it was the truth.
"It's okay," I said, holding onto his jacket so that he wouldn't step away from me. "I wrote about you, too."
"You did?" he asked, cracking a little smile. "What'd you write?"
"You already heard it. It was the one at the end called Forgiveness."
"I want to hear the other one," he said quietly.
"What other one?"
"The one where you quit runnin' away and quit asking for forgiveness. The one where you stay and you're mine."
I glanced down with a little smile. "I didn't write that one yet."
"That's a shame," he said, stretching casually.
I stepped closer to him, holding onto his arm. "I didn't write it, but I'm also not gonna do it."
"Not gonna do what?"
"Run away, like you said."
He looked at me with a little grin as I stared up at him from his side.
"I think we should start with coffee and a slice of pie," I added, all but batting my eyes at him.
Going to a diner for coffee and pie was something Ryan and I had done countless times in college, so it was a no-brainer for me to suggest it.
"Hungry, girl?" he said, pinching my side. The phrase was an inside joke from college, and I giggled.
"I'm starving, actually. It's been a few months since I've had a decent meal. I can't eat right when I'm not feeling well."
"Not feeling well?" he asked, pulling back to look into my eyes.
"Sad," I said.
"Why sad?"
I shrugged because the answer was that I thought I wouldn't have him, and I wasn't going to tell him that. "I'm better now, though," I said.
He reached down and used a finger to tilt up my chin. "You feelin' better, because I broke up with that girl?" he asked with a teasing grin since it was obvious I was wrapped around his finger.
"Yes," I said. "I'm much better now that I know that."
"That was months ago," he said. "Why'd it take you so long to ask me about it?"
I shrugged, not knowing why I did half the things I did in my life. "I guess I'm here now, and so are you," I said, glancing downward.
"Not for long because you're taking me out for pie."
Chapter 17
Ryan asked if I wanted to go to an old diner that was within walking distance of the coffee shop, but I told him I had heard of one that opened while I was living in Austin and had been wanting to try it. I really just wanted to get in his vehicle so he could be stuck with me.
Ryan told me he was familiar with the one I recommended, which was called Bird's Nest. He said he thought I would like it, and I could tell by the gleam in his eye that I should trust him. He always knew my taste exactly and was able to tell when I'd love something, so I knew this would be good.
"You're gonna get to meet Bird," he said as we got out of his truck and headed down the street toward the diner.
"You mean Bird's Nest actually has a bird?" I asked.
"Not a winged creature, but a lady named Bird, yes. I think it's a nickname, but yeah, the owner's name is Bird. She's cool. You'll like her."
"Is that her?" I asked, looking into the windows of the diner as we approached. I could see three people dressed in uniforms, but one stood out to me as Bird. She wasn't bright yellow or anything, but she did resemble Big Bird in stature. She looked creole, or mixed-race, and her head full of curly hair had been pulled into a high ponytail. A huge puff of curls with blonde tips sat right on top of her head. She had on a vintage-looking waitress uniform and looked around the dining room like she was in charge. By the name and the way Ryan spoke of her, I expected an old lady, but this one looked to be not much older than me. I watched her for several seconds as we walked on the sidewalk toward the door.
"Yeah, that's her," Ryan answered, opening the door.
"My man," she said the second we came into the room. I glanced at Bird to find that she was smiling at us with a toothy grin so big it covered the whole bottom part of her face. I just loved her already.
"My, my, he's exchanged his laptop for a young lady," she said with raised eyebrows, coming around the counter to greet us.
I could see the lines beside her eyes when she got close enough for a hug, but she still seemed young to have a place like this of her own.
"I'm Birdy Franklin, but most people just call me Bird, sha," she said, hugging me. She pulled back to stare at me and pinched my cheek as she smiled. "I hope you two are hungry."
"I promised her some of your pecan pie."
"A la mode?" Bird asked, ushering us to a booth.
"Oui, merci," I said.
She smiled and looked at Ryan. "Same for you, sha?" she asked.
He nodded as we sat at a booth together. I settled-in across from him, feeling like I'd much rather be sitting on the same side. I had sat across from Ryan at diners in the past, and never before had it seemed like we were such a great distance away. The table might as well have been ten feet wide with how far away he felt. I wanted to touch him so badly that I almost played footsy with him, but I thought that might get weird, so I kept my feet to myself.
"She's the coolest," I said, smiling at him.
"I told you you'd like this place," he said. "Bird's got a cool story. She had a little café in Metairie, but she lost everything in Katrina and had to work her way back up to this. She's been winning cook-offs since she was in high school. She was raised in a kitchen. Most of the stuff's her grandma's recipes. She's here all the time. She loves it, and that's what makes it what it is."
"I read good reviews," I said.
My words came out quietly because Bird was walking up, carrying a tray with our coffee and pie. She sa
t the tray directly on the table, and without even asking, took the seat right next to Ryan. She smiled at both of us before reaching out to take our coffee and pie off of the tray and position them in front of us. She scooted the tray to the edge of the table so it would be out of the way. Ryan took a bite of the pie and smiled and looked at Bird as he chewed. She smiled sweetly at him and reached up to pat his cheek.
"Did you read this man's book?" she asked, dropping her hand and looking at me.
I smiled and nodded. "I sure did."
"He's writing his next book in here," she said. "I don't know which part or which chapters or anything, but he'll bring that laptop in here sometimes and just click away on it for two or three hours." She smiled and winked at him. "He tells me he's playing solitaire, but I know better. I know he's over there writing up a storm."
She reached out to slide my plate toward me as if reminding me it was there. "You gonna eat this, or just let the ice cream melt?" she asked, still wearing that huge grin.
I unwrapped my fork and took a bite. It was truly delicious, and I told her so, which she loved.
"We're all big fans of that book he wrote," she said. "And we all think he's Jack," she added as an afterthought. She winked at me and nudged him. "I tried to talk him into lettin' me be his Emma, but he said he doesn't date short-order cooks."
Ryan cracked up at that. "I never said any such thing," he said.
She laughed and patted him on the back. "I'm too old for you, anyway, sweetheart, but I appreciate you never saying such a thing." She paused and smiled at both of us like she was enjoying watching us eat our pie. "No, we're really proud of Ryan," she said patting his back again. "We're so happy for the success he's having with that book." She leaned into him again before sliding out of the booth and getting to her feet. "Y'all enjoy your pie, and let me know if you need anything else," she said gesturing at the table. "Ms. Emma, you need some cream for your coffee?" she asked after she had already turned to walk away.
My One Regret (Martin Family Book 3) Page 11
